


The Kings and the Piercing

by jaydee09



Series: Two Kings [40]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Because it's fun, Cock Piercing, Developing Relationship, Humor, M/M, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Oral Sex, Romance, That bloody little hobbit!, Why do they always argue?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-21
Updated: 2015-11-21
Packaged: 2018-05-02 16:58:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5256374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaydee09/pseuds/jaydee09
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The trend for genital piercing has come full circle, moving from Erebor to Mirkwood and now back again.  So, who knows about Thranduil’s rather intimate but sexually effective piercing and who will insist that their lover has one too?  The Ring causes trouble here and Thranduil, Thorin and the lady tattoo artist, Bris, find themselves in the middle of it.  Yet another stand-alone story in my Two Kings arc.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Kings and the Piercing

.o00o.

 

The Kings and the Piercing

 

Pt I

 

The Power of the Ring

 

Bilbo twisted the magic ring on his finger and felt very, very naughty.  He always did on the few occasions that he put it on.  It really seemed to bring out the worst in him.  Now his eyes were fixed on another gold ring – the one at the end of Thranduil’s cock.  Ah, so that’s what he had been up to?  He had rather assumed that things wouldn’t end with a tattoo on the nipple – the one the elven king had flashed to the whole dining hall in Erebor a few months ago when he had been in the middle of a row with Thorin.  These things tended to become addictive – just like his own ring.

 

He hunched invisibly by the bed and watched with increasing excitement as the circular barbell and Thranduil’s substantial cock disappeared up Thorin’s backside.  He wanted to groan and had to bite his knuckles to stop any sound escaping from his mouth.  The little hobbit had been thinking about sneaking into Thorin’s bedroom for some time now, ever since he had come visiting a year ago and had then stayed on as Dwalin’s bedmate.

 

It wasn’t as if he was in the middle of a passionate affair with the big dwarf or anything, but the sex was good enough and, more importantly, they understood each other’s needs.  They were both disappointed lovers and the dwarven king was the object of their desire.  On separate occasions and for different reasons, they had both had one night stands with Thorin and they were fixated on him.  They knew about their partner’s obsession and catered to it in fantasy games when they were fucking each other.  It was definitely better than no sex at all.

 

But Bilbo had often woken up in the early hours and reached for his ring.  He would fondle it and turn it in his hand and think about the power that it gave him if he should choose to use it.  And, today he had succumbed.  Leaving the snoring Dwalin behind in their room, he had slid on the ring and then had padded down the dark and silent corridors until he had reached Thorin’s apartment.

 

When he had slipped into the bedroom, the two kings were asleep in each other’s arms and he had quietly pulled up a chair to watch them.  Perhaps they had somehow sensed his presence, but it wasn’t long before they stirred.  They began to caress each other and to whisper together quietly.  Bilbo bent forward in his chair.   “Come on, then,” he thought.  But, they seemed to be in no hurry and just continued to touch each other and cover their partner in kisses.  Bilbo thought how he and Dwalin just got stuck in and began to wonder if he were missing out on something.

 

Finally, Thranduil swung himself over Thorin’s body and the dwarf reached up to run a finger gently down his face.  That’s when Bilbo got his first glimpse of the gold piercing, shining in the gloom, and he blinked.  Thorin had one through his nipple, he knew, but one on the end of your cock was such an extreme dwarvish thing to do that he could hardly believe his eyes.  The things that Thranduil seemed prepared to do to titivate his partner!   Unbelievable!  And he wondered if he had been lucky enough to be Thorin’s lover, he would have been prepared to do the same thing.  Nope, sorry.  And he shuddered.

 

The dwarven king closed his eyes and, as the elf penetrated him, he arched his back in ecstasy.  It didn’t take long for him to come, but to the hobbit’s surprise, he just kept going, crying out to Thranduil to drive in harder.  And soon, as Bilbo clutched his own excited member, he came again.  The elf came too, but the question was, how much was the dwarven king’s double whammy owed to Thranduil’s cock and how much to the large barbell attached to the end of it?  Must be the piercing, he thought: why else have it done?

 

Bilbo squeezed his prick and was just considering whether he could reach orgasm quietly enough in this room or if he should slip back into bed with Dwalin and get him to finish off the job, when the two kings, who hadn’t fallen asleep but had, instead, continued to whisper lovingly together, rose to the occasion again.  Thorin rolled the elf on his back and, grasping both their pricks in his large hand, he rubbed them together more and more fiercely until they came on a loud cry.  Bilbo, trying to keep pace with them, also exploded into his hand; and, as the kings finally fell asleep, he stood up and let his pyjama bottoms fall to his feet, stepped out of them and used them as a towel to mop himself up.  He was really proud of the fact that he had done all this without letting a single groan escape his lips.

 

As he trotted back invisibly to his apartment, the hobbit was feeling rather disgruntled.  He had seen enough to fuel quite a few fantasies over the next couple of weeks and he would definitely be visiting that room again; but, if he discounted all the soppy stuff that had passed between the two lovers, he still felt that there was something missing in his own love-life.  That knobbly lump of gold being repeatedly thrust up Thorin’s backside must really have hit the spot to have created such a volcanic reaction.  And he began to wonder if Dwalin would consider having one done.  Hmm, he must bring up the topic as cunningly as possible so that his bedmate felt backed into a corner and with no way of refusing his request.

 

.o00o.

 

Dawn came an hour later and the two kings slowly surfaced.  “Come on,” groaned Thorin tiredly.  “Better have a bath.”  And they both swung their legs out of bed.  But, Thranduil tripped over the chair, left by Bilbo, and rubbed his shin.

 

“Ouch,” he said.  “Did you leave that there?”

 

“No,” said Thorin indignantly.  But, then he pushed the elf back on the bed.  “Shall I kiss it better?” he grinned.  The kiss on the leg, of course, became a bunch of kisses elsewhere.  And, one thing led to another which explained why the dwarf and the elf didn’t come down to breakfast until much later.

 

.o00o.

 

Pt II

 

Manipulative Cunning

 

Bilbo dragged Dwalin downstairs for an early breakfast.  “I’m starving hungry this morning – can’t imagine why.”  Then he ate a long, slow meal and wandered around talking to the other dwarves until the two kings finally came down.

 

“Hello, there!” he yelled, waving them over.  “Come and join us.”

 

Thranduil pulled a face but Thorin was quite happy to saunter over to their table.  The little hobbit fetched himself another plate of food and forced it down, just to have an excuse to linger over a cup of tea with them.  Finally, at what he thought was an appropriate moment, he grinned at the elven king and said:  “All sorts of rumours are spreading out about you from Mirkwood, I’m afraid, about you and your, umm, dwarven habits.”  Thorin rolled his eyes and Thranduil looked annoyed.

 

“I suppose they’ve found out about your piercing,” sighed the dwarf to his lover.

 

“’Fraid so,” sympathised Bilbo.  “The whole of Mirkwood is talking about it apparently.  Not the sort of thing you can easily keep from people.”

 

Dwalin raised an eyebrow. “So, you’ve had a piercing, Thranduil?” he asked.   “Bilbo didn’t say.”

 

“I don’t believe in passing on gossip,” said Bilbo righteously.

 

“Would it be rude to ask where it is?” asked Dwalin.

 

“Well, since the whole world knows, I might as well tell you………it’s on my cock.”

 

Bilbo looked seriously interested:  “It must have been very painful but we know you’ll do anything for Thorin – and it must really spice up your love life – or so I’ve heard about those barbells right on the tip.”

 

The dwarven king covered the elf’s hand with his own and said softly: “Yes, he’s wonderful, isn’t he?”

 

Imitating Thorin’s gesture, Bilbo touched his bedmate’s hand gently too:  “I’d love you to do the same for me, Dwalin.  How about it?”

 

The big dwarf cleared his throat and looked very uncomfortable.  “I’ll think about it and, er, perhaps I’ll have a little chat with Thranduil and Thorin – to find out more about it, you know.”

 

Bilbo mentally rubbed his hands together.  Right, it looked as though he had pushed his partner along the right track, however reluctantly.

 

.o00o.

 

Back in Thorin’s apartment, Thranduil sat astride the dwarf’s lap, thinking.  He was absentmindedly kissing his lover’s nose whilst his slender fingers, strayed inside his shirt and played with his nipple ring.

 

“How do you think that word got out about my piercing?” he asked.  “No-one knew about it except you, me and Bris.  She’s too professional to gossip and I haven’t told anyone, not even Legolas….”

 

“So that leaves only me,” said Thorin rather indignantly.  “Thank you so much for your trust and confidence.”

 

“Sorry, my love,” exclaimed Thranduil hastily, giving the dwarven king’s nose an extra big suck as an apology.  “You know I didn’t mean that.  But it is very puzzling.”

 

“Having one’s nose sucked isn’t much of an apology,” grumbled Thorin.  And he wriggled his hand down the front of the elf’s breeches and began to fiddle with the piercing. 

 

The elven king kissed him, parting his lips softly and exploring his mouth as his cock hardened at Thorin’s touch.  “Perhaps you’d like to do some sucking instead,” he murmured, rising to his feet.   The dwarf nimbly unbuttoned him and sucked his swollen length into his mouth, his tongue sliding in and out of the golden ring.

 

 _Aah,_ sighed the elf.  It was such exquisite torment.  It wasn’t just Thorin’s sex life that had improved since the piercing had been done.  And he clutched his lover’s hair and urged him on.  The tongue probed; the lips sucked; and he was in ecstasy.

 

An hour later, as they lay on the bed, Thorin suddenly said: “Perhaps it was the servants.  They seem to know everything.  And then bits of juicy news soon spread.”

 

“Umm, perhaps,” replied Thranduil sleepily.  But something was bothering him.  He would write a quick message to Legolas after they got up.

 

.o00o.

 

A similar conversation was going on in Dwalin’s rooms.  Bilbo had been re-aroused by the conversation with the two kings as he remembered the action of the previous night and Dwalin was trying to persuade him that he didn’t really need a piercing to give the hobbit the maximum stimulation.  The dwarf thrust into his partner as Bilbo bent over with his breeches about his ankles.  “Aren’t I enough?” he panted.  “Why do you need a lump of metal as well?”

 

“I’m curious,” was the answer, “and I’ve got an experimental nature.  We don’t know what we might be missing out on – but I’ve heard that a piercing can induce multiple orgasms.”

 

Dwalin, slightly annoyed at this perceived slight on his masculinity, drove even harder.  “And how did you hear about all this stuff, anyway?  I’m surprised that Thranduil didn’t keep it a more closely guarded secret.”

 

Bilbo came and then the dwarf came too.  The hobbit hoped that this would distract Dwalin for the moment: but he was like a dog with a bone.  “So, tell me then,” he continued, mopping himself with a towel.  “How did you find out?”

 

The hobbit buttoned his breeches and shrugged casually.  “Oh, I was in the stables when two messengers came from Mirkwood.  They didn’t see me and were laughing and chatting about it.  I haven’t the faintest how they found out about it, of course.”

 

Dwalin’s brow furrowed.  “I don’t really want to do this,” he muttered.

 

“Well, you could at least talk to our two kings about it first,” came the snapped response, “like you promised.”  And he marched bad-temperedly from the room.

 

Dwalin sighed.  He supposed there was no harm in doing that.

 

.o00o.

 

Pt III

 

Show of Reluctance

 

Thorin woke up from his post-coital doze to find Thranduil hovering over him, booted and spurred.  “Where are you off to?” he asked sleepily.

 

“To Mirkwood,” was the reply.  “I was going to write Legolas a letter about a particular problem but I’ve decided to go there in person.  It’ll be a quick one – I’ll be back early this evening.”  And with a kiss, he was gone.

 

A bit later, when Thorin wandered downstairs for a desultory lunch, Dwalin came up to his table and said quietly: “Umm, do you mind if I come up for a chat with you and Thranduil this afternoon about, you know, what we were talking about at breakfast?”

 

Thorin smiled.  “Thranduil isn’t here at the moment, but will I do?”

_Oh, yes, you will do, any time any place_ , Dwalin thought sadly but he knew it would never happen.  “Can I come up, then?”

 

A bit later, the two sat companionably over a drink.  “So, what on earth made Thranduil do a thing like that?”

 

“The wife of an elf lord,” Thorin laughed, “who was intrigued by Thranduil’s nipple tattoo persuaded her husband to get a tattoo as well.”  His grin widened.  “He went one better and not only had an enormous tattoo done on his genitals but also had a piercing.  When my poor love realised he had been outdone, he wanted the same thing too but Bris persuaded him to stick with the piercing.”

 

“Bris?”

 

“You probably don’t know her – I didn’t.  She’s a female tattooist who tends to move around all the dwarven kingdoms, selling her skills.  You know, she’s the one who owned up to doing Thranduil’s nipple tattoo in the dining hall a few months ago.”

 

Dwalin nodded.  “Oh, so that’s Bris.  I wondered who she was.  I only got a glimpse but she’s quite a striking woman, isn’t she?”

 

“She certainly is,” laughed his king, “and not just in her looks.  She’s got what you might call ‘strength of character’ and she led my elf a merry dance, I can tell you.  Had him jumping through hoops.”  And he chuckled as he thought about the stories that Thranduil had told him about her.

 

“But, of course, I shan’t be having Bris,” Dwalin said with a shy look.  “A man did the tattoos on my head and put in my ear piercings.”

 

The king laughed even more loudly.   “I’m afraid, my dear friend, that if you want anything on your cock, only a female artist will do it.”

 

“That settles it, then, I just can’t have it done – and not just because it’s a woman involved – although that will make things worse.”

 

Thorin gave him a look.  “I really don’t believe that you’re afraid of a bit of pain, not after all the battle wounds you’ve suffered in the past.”

 

Dwalin looked very, very uncomfortable.  “The trouble is, you know – well – it’s a bit embarrassing – but – you see – I got an erection when I had these tattoos and ear piercings done years ago……which is why I’ve never had any more done since.   No-one noticed at the time but there would be no way of disguising it if a lady was actually working on my cock.”

 

“The question is, do you want to do this for Bilbo?  And, if you do, then you must speak to Bris.  From what I’ve been told, she is very, very blunt and doesn’t get embarrassed about anything.”

 

Dwalin nodded.  “All right, let’s go for it before I change my mind.”

 

.o00o.

 

Thorin sent a servant out to look for Bris and, half an hour later, the door crashed open and Bris marched into the room.  The king let out a bark of laughter.   “Thranduil told me you were rude,” he grinned.

 

Bris shrugged: “If you want my services then you take me or leave me.”

 

The two dwarfs looked at her curiously.  She had beautiful, luxuriant, brown curls, greying slightly at the temples, but which bobbed and dangled attractively down her back.  Her features were strong, with a wide mouth and dancing eyes that shone a vivid green.  She was full-bodied with large breasts in that typical dwarven manner and she walked with a confident stride which, nevertheless, still demonstrated a certain grace.  And, although she was brusque, there was something that drew them to her.  She wasn’t a young girl, but, “Does she remind me of my mother?” thought Dwalin momentarily.  “Nope, definitely not.”  And he grinned to himself.  But, if she had been an old crone then perhaps it would have made life easier for him.

 

She needed no introductions – she recognised both the king, of course, but also his famous companion.  “So, do you want what Thranduil’s got,” she asked Thorin abruptly, “so that you can be a matching pair?  I bet it’s been fun having that cock and its lump of gold up your backside?”

 

“Well, Bris,” replied an amused king, “it has indeed been a lot of fun but I shall defer my partner’s pleasure for another day.  It’s Dwalin here who is interested in a piercing.  However, he needs to talk to you about his – er – little problem.”

 

“Not so little,” muttered the warrior dwarf.

 

She waited impatiently for a few seconds as the king’s companion shuffled his feet and then barked, “Well, spit it out, then!”

 

Dwalin, who had been watching her with some fascination, jumped and blushed.  “Umm, er, umm….” he stuttered.

 

“All right,” she interrupted, noticing his colour.  “No need to tell me.  I suppose you’re one of those who gets a hard-on the minute you’re touched.”

 

“Yes,” he gasped, really glad that he didn’t have to spell it out.

 

“You do realise, don’t you, that I can’t do a piercing while you’re erect.  Too much blood in the area.”

 

Dwalin gave a sigh of relief.  “So, I can tell Bilbo that you don’t recommend it?”

 

“That runty little hobbit’s your bedmate, is he?” she laughed.  “I’m surprised that you two fit together.”

 

He blushed again and she took pity on him, patting him on the arm.  “There are ways of getting around it,” she said.  “Is that good news or bad news.”  And she grinned cheerfully at him.

 

He couldn’t help but grin back.  “I suppose I ought to give it a try.”

 

“So, get them off,” she said.

 

He was glad that Thorin was there to give him support but, by the time he had dropped his breeches, he was burning bright red again.  He was already partially stiff just discussing these things but, once she touched his prick, he exploded into a full-blown erection.

 

“I’m sorry. I’m really sorry,” he said shame-facedly.

 

“Nothing to be ashamed of,” she said briskly.  “That’s a real beauty and I’d be really proud of a cock like that if I were you.”  And she laughed heartily.

 

Dwalin looked a bit sheepish.  “Not bad, is it?” he mumbled.  He already felt better, just talking about things so naturally.

 

Thorin, meanwhile, sat back and admired the woman’s skill: the erection was already subsiding.  She seemed to know just the right thing to say.  But……

 

“I’m afraid, lad, that you’re not even over the first hurdle yet,” she continued.  “If you want to go ahead with this, you’ll need a thorough wash first – we don’t want to become infected, do we?  That means it’ll be me who gives you a bath.”

 

Thorin raised an eyebrow.  “Did you wash Thranduil?”

 

“Nope, because elves are so much more meticulous than you mucky buggers when they cleanse themselves, don’t you think?”  And, in all honesty, the two had to agree with her.

 

.o00o.

 

Pt IV

 

Return of the King

 

“Right,” she said, when they got to the bathing pool in the next room.  “Strip off and have a good wash in the deep end and then come up to the shallow end here and sit on the steps.”

 

Dwalin lowered himself into the water and then looked up.  “So, you’re not stripping off and getting in with me, then?” he asked cheekily, emboldened by her matter-of-fact attitude.  “Shame.”

 

“Don’t push your luck, lad,” she growled, but she was grinning.  She was bending over the pool, laughing at him and he thought what beautiful, creamy breasts she had: just for a moment, he wondered what it must be like to thrust his prick between them, then felt guilty over his lack of faithfulness both to Bilbo and to Thorin. 

 

Whilst he washed, she took off her boots and pulled the back of her skirt up through her legs and tucked it into her belt to make a sort of loin cloth.  Then, when Dwalin came to sit on the steps, feeling quite pleased with himself because his erection had totally subsided, she paddled into the water, armed with a bar of soap and a wash-cloth.  “Well,” she said, eyeing his limp member askance, “that won’t last long.”  And she grabbed his genitals and gave his prick and his balls a good scrub with the soapy cloth.

 

.o00o.

 

Five minutes later, poor Dwalin was lying on a sheet-covered table in just his shirt and with an aggressively erect prick sticking up straight and hard against his belly.  “Now look what you’ve done,” he groaned.  “I’ll never get rid of it now.”

 

“Multiply difficult sums in your head,” suggested Thorin.  “That’s what Thranduil did.”

 

“I can’t even multiply simple sums,” responded his friend.  “I’m no good with numbers.”

 

“Or,” suggested Bris, “I could give you a hand job.  That would resolve things.”

 

“No, you will most certainly not,” exclaimed an indignant Dwalin.  “Have you no shame, woman?!”

 

“Nope.  Not a lot.  No room for shame in a career like mine.”

 

And whilst they were all staring morosely at the rather large and defiant erection, there was a polite knock and Bilbo entered the room.

 

“Oh, good,” he said.  “Here you all are.  So, you’ve decided to have the piercing done after all, I see.”  And he studied his lover’s genitals with interest.  “You’re going to have a curved barbell like Thranduil’s on the tip, I suppose, but, you know, it would be good to have some straight bars a bit further down.  And how about some piercings on your balls?  I’ve been in the library, reading up on it, you know.”

 

The thought of all that extra, exquisite pain only served to make Dwalin’s cock harder and even more engorged than it was before.  “You’re not helping,” snapped the dwarf.

 

“But, as the recipient of all these lumps of gold up my backside,” said Bilbo indignantly, “I do think that I deserve a say in the matter.”

 

And, as they all opened their mouths to argue, a furious Thranduil, clutching his riding crop and with his cloak billowing behind him, threw open the door, strode into the room and seized Bilbo by the collar.  “I shall kill you,” he hissed.

 

Everyone stood startled and stunned as Bilbo’s face slowly turned blue.  Thorin was the first to react and he stepped forward and grasped his partner’s wrist.  “Leave him alone, Thranduil,” he growled.  But the elf only twisted the collar tighter, lifting the hobbit almost off his feet.

 

Then, “Put him down, there’s a good boy,” said a soft voice close to Thranduil’s ear and he felt a sharp blade at his throat.   It was Bris: she had drawn the knife from her boot and she sounded as if she meant business.  Thranduil sowly released Bilbo’s throat but still grasped him firmly by his lapel.  Dwalin sat up and gazed admiringly at the tattooist.  What a magnificent woman!  She looked so in control and even the elven king was responding to her authoritative voice.

 

“You don’t know what he’s done,” snarled the elf to Thorin as the dwarven king tried to prise away his fingers.  “If you did, you’d be helping me to throttle him too.”

 

“So, let him go and then tell us what he _has_ done,” suggested Bris quietly.  And Thranduil slowly relaxed his grasp. 

 

He drew himself up and tossed back his silvery blond hair.  “I have just come back from a visit to Mirkwood,” he said, gesturing to his riding clothes, “where I have been investigating Bilbo’s claim that everyone is spreading gossip there about my new piercing and that he picked up the gossip after it reached Erebor.”  Bilbo began to look shifty.  “Legolas assures me that there is no such rumour and so I have concluded that the hobbit is lying.”

 

By now, they were all hanging on his every word.  “Now, the question is, not only did he know about my piercing but he knew precisely where it was and exactly what item of jewellery – a barbell – I decided to use.  The only way he would know such details is if he had spied on us.  Do you remember that chair I tripped over this morning?”

 

Thorin frowned.  “A bit far-fetched, my love.  How would he have done that without us knowing?”  And then the penny began to drop.  The elven king stretched out his hand to the hobbit: “The ring!  Give it to me!” he growled.  “Such a powerful thing should not be in the possession of one such as you so that you can play your silly games.  Thorin or myself should own it – it would be a useful weapon in times of need.”

 

But Bilbo’s face contorted in a horrible grimace and he thrust his hand into his pocket and clutched the ring.  “You shan’t have it!” he snarled.  “It’s mine, all mine!”  And before anyone could stop him, he had slipped it on his finger and vanished before their very eyes.  The door opened and closed.  Dwalin pulled on his breeches and ran barefoot from the room.  Then Bris, looking at the door and then at the two kings who were glaring angrily at each other and seemed to be spoiling for a fight, decided to run after her customer.

 

.o00o.

 

Bilbo made for the stables and, taking off the ring, began to saddle his horse.  He had to get out of Erebor and back to Bag End before his precious ring was taken from him.  Just as he was adjusting the saddle, Dwalin turned up.  “I thought you’d be running away,” he said.  “What a mess you have got yourself into this time.”  And he shook his head in disbelief.

 

Bilbo dived behind a stack of hay bales and pulled out a large bag with a sleeping roll attached to the top.  “Always be ready for a quick exit, that’s my motto,” he said, surprisingly cheerfully.  “And it’s about time I went back to Bag End, anyway.”  Then he led the horse into the yard and mounted from the block.  “Well, I might see you again, you know.  The sex was good.”  And then he was gone, leaving Dwalin with his mouth open.

 

The dwarf sat down on a bench and put his head in his hands.  Someone touched his arm and a quiet voice said: “Don’t be sad.  He really didn’t deserve a fine dwarf like you.” 

 

He looked up and it was Bris.  “Oh, I’m not sad,” he grinned.  “Just relieved that I don’t have to go through with that piercing.  Saved by the hand of fate, and all that.”

 

She sat next to him and he noticed that she was no longer wearing her stern school-marm look but had the sweetest smile on those generous lips.  “I wish,” he said softly, “that I had met you a long time ago before I wasted my life yearning after things I couldn’t have.”

 

“Helping Thorin to reclaim Erebor wasn’t a waste of time,” she said, taking his large hand in hers.  “And, who says you can have me, anyway?” she added, raising a cheeky eyebrow.

 

“And can I?” he asked.

 

“Of course you can,” she said, leaning forward and kissing his cheek.  “I’ve been waiting a long time too.”  And Dwalin thought that she didn’t look like Thorin nor like his former lover, Dis, who also looked like Thorin: he was attracted to her for herself alone.

 

“Come on,” she said, rising to her feet and pulling him up.  “Let’s go to my bedroom and find out all about each other.”

 

“You won’t want me to have a piercing on my prick, will you?” he asked anxiously as they mounted the stairs.

 

“No,” she grinned.  “I’ve got enough tattoos and piercings of my own to keep us both satisfied.”

 

And Dwalin could feel himself hardening just at the thought.

 

.o00o.

 

Pt V

 

Crack of the Whip

 

Back in Thorin’s apartment, the two kings faced each other angrily.

 

“You do so mishandle things,” snapped Thorin.  “You’ve always been aggressive with Bilbo.  Now Dwalin has lost his bedmate and we’ve lost the opportunity to get our hands on that ring.  He’s doubtless halfway to Bag End by now.”

 

Thranduil’s fists were clenched by his sides: “Why do you always leap to that little runt’s defence, no matter what he’s done?  Don’t you care that he was sitting within inches of us while we fucked?”

 

“Of course I care but, when you’re a king, you’ve got to see the bigger picture and not try to take things too personally.”

 

“Too personally!” spluttered the elf.  “How else is one supposed to take being spied upon?  First of all by your relative, Dain, and now by your supposed friend, Bilbo.  You seem to attract all the perverts.”

 

“And is that why I attracted you?” Thorin sneered in response.  “You and your pornographic mind.”

 

“You cast out lures to everyone and we are all drawn in: me, Bilbo, Dwalin.  And you care more about Bilbo and Dwalin than you do about me, worrying about how that hobbit will manage on his way home and how Dwalin will do without someone to fuck.  As long as he doesn’t come sniffing around you again…..”

 

“And, so what if he does?  Are you saying that you don’t trust me to hold him at arm’s length?”

 

“When I think about you and Bilbo, you and Dwalin , you and half of Erebor and Mirkwood, then , yes, that’s precisely what I’m saying,” yelled the elf.  “What do I find, for instance, after a round trip to Mirkwood?  I come back exhausted, and there you are, staring at Dwalin’s erect prick.  I can’t let you out of my sight for five minutes.”

 

“It all boils down to jealousy with you, doesn’t it?” shouted Thorin.  “The moment I even talk to someone, you go berserk.  And the thing that really, really bothers you is the size of someone’s prick.  No wonder you felt you needed to lengthen yours with a piercing.”

 

An infuriated Thranduil raised the riding crop that was still in his hand after his long ride.  Thorin flung his arms wide and lifted his face, ready for the stroke.  “Yes, take your revenge for that blow I gave you that time with my whip.  Go on!  Hit me!”  And he closed his eyes and waited.  But, instead of the lash, he felt a gentle, fluttering touch as the elf ran the tip of the crop from his forehead, down his nose and chin and exposed throat, down his muscular chest and flat belly until it paused on his crotch.

 

Thorin opened his eyes and his lover was standing there in tears.  Immediately contrite, the dwarven king wrapped his arms around the elf and buried his face in his neck.  “Why do we do this to each other?” he sighed.  Thranduil dropped his whip and wept into the dwarf’s hair.

 

“I don’t know why, but it hurts just as much every time,” he whispered.

 

Thorin reached up and stroked the elven king’s smooth cheek.  “Yes, Bilbo really disgusts me; and, yes, I’m glad he’s gone before we killed him between us; and, yes, I’m really sorry for Dwalin because he’s a good bloke and never seems to catch a decent break; and, yes, I wish we had a magic ring; but, no, you need nothing to enhance your cock and, if you want to unclip that barbell, then I deserve to do without it because I don’t deserve you.”

 

Thranduil kissed him and his tears ran into Thorin’s mouth.  “Let’s go to bed,” the dwarf whispered gently.  “But,” he added with a seductive grin, “keep your boots on…… and pick up your crop.”

 

Thranduil kept both the barbell and his boots on.  “Ride me,” groaned Thorin, bending over in the position that the elf loved.  Thranduil pushed into him and rode him fast and hard.  

 

“What was all that about?” he asked when the dwarven king eventually lay in his arms and he was gently massaging the dwarf’s rather sore behind where Thorin had insisted he apply the whip.

 

“I needed it,” said Thorin sadly.  I thought it might make me feel better about breaking up two of Dwalin’s relationships.  But I’m still carrying all this guilt.”

 

“We could try and find him another partner – you know, deliberately try to pair him up with someone,” suggested Thranduil.

 

It was a constructive idea and they began to run through all the available dwarven women in Erebor – not that there were many going spare.

 

“Well, there’s Mairead,” Thorin suggested.  “She’s very old and has been married three times but they say she used to be a bit of a goer.  Perhaps she’s still got something left to offer.”

 

“No,” said Thranduil.

 

“And then there’s Zylra.  She’s really good-looking but no-one wants her because she has a filthy temper.”

 

“No,” said Thranduil.

 

“And, of course, Bris is unmarried but they don’t seem to have anything in common.  Chalk and cheese.”

 

“Nope, can’t see that working.”

 

“Ah, well, let’s think about it a bit more tomorrow,” sighed Thorin.  “There’s got to be someone for him out there.”  And the two inept matchmakers snuggled down comfortably in each other’s arms and both went to sleep.

 

.o00o.

 

**LOL, stick to the day job, you two!  And so, it all ends happily ever after again and I hope you’re pleased for Dwalin and Bris, a perfect couple, IMO.**

**It’s still another week before the UK gets the EE of Battle of the Five Armies.  I’m really looking forward to it, especially the 9 hours of extras.  No-one does that sort of thing better than PJ.**

**Thank you for reading and I shall try to come up with yet another idea in the near future.  In the meantime, if you haven’t read all of this saga which is one long story made up of individual stand-alones, and you would like to read other episodes that deal with the things mentioned in this one, then, the two previous stories deal with Bris, tattoos and piercings.**

**Then _, The Kings and the Forges_ and _The Kings and the Consequences_ deal with the Thranduil/Thorin/Dwalin aspect and its violent outcome.  _The Kings and the Brothel_ and _The Kings and the Reunion_ describe Thorin’s relationship with Bilbo and how the hobbit finishes up back in Erebor; and _The Kings and the Love Letters_ explains how Thorin comes to strike Thranduil across the face with his whip.  The very first in the series is _King of the Antlered Throne_.**

 

 

 

 


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